


On the Quidditch Pitch

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: What happens when Draco Malfoy asks Hermione Granger to be his girlfriend?





	1. Chapter 1

**Part I.**

 

It was at the arrival feast when Draco realized he pretty much hated everything.

 

He hated that his father was in Azkaban and that his mother had taken to fussing over him as if he was eleven. He hated that he was dismissed with looks of disgust and pity on the train. He hated that his fellow Slytherins surrounded him like some sort of leader, but didn’t speak to him. He hated that Crabbe was gone and it was his fault. He hated that Snape was gone, too. He hated that Slughorn was now the Head of Slytherin House and behaved as though Draco was invisible.

 

And he really hated that Pansy thought she was his girlfriend and kept touching him.

 

When Pansy’s hand casually slid onto his thigh, Draco went rigid. He slowly and deliberately grasped her wrist and pushed the offending limb away. She stared at him in shock for a moment. He hoped she didn’t make a scene. Draco fixed his attention on a close knot of students at the end of the Gryffindor table.

 

Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood were laughing. It was as if a golden light surrounded them; they were ridiculous but revered. Draco found himself longing to be part of their group. What was it about them? After a few minutes of contemplation, Draco suspected it was their friendship that he envied. That and they didn’t care what anyone else thought of them.

 

As he supposed he might, Draco found Hermione Granger alone in the library that evening. He noticed that the surge of hot annoyance that once filled him at the sight of her was absent. Now, she was simply a girl.

 

“Granger,” he said, slipping into the empty chair at her table and pushing a stack of books to the side.

 

“Malfoy,” she replied, a wary glint in her gaze.

 

“I want to date you,” he said.

 

The witch’s eyes went round and her cheeks pinkened. Draco realized he needed to explain further before she assumed he had _feelings_ for her.

 

“This isn’t a declaration!” he hastily added.

 

Granger scowled and Draco understood he needed to take care with his words or the witch would jinx him. He leaned towards her, struggling with his desire to change his life and the necessity of exposing weakness.

 

“I want to be different,” he said. 

 

Granger snapped her book shut and began pulling her things together. “You think dating me will make you different?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I see,” she said, sending books onto the shelves with quick flicks of her wand.

 

“… Well?” Draco prompted, mystified. This wasn’t at all how he envisioned the conversation.

 

“What do I get out of it?” Granger asked with a cool look.

 

“Me,” Draco replied, eyes narrow.

 

The witch laughed. Draco sat back in the chair, rather enjoying the sound of her laughter even though it was at his expense.

 

“Don’t Gryffindors thrive on helping others? Being heroes? Think of me as a project – preventing the potential for a dark wizard.”

 

“Is that how you think of yourself?” she asked quietly.

 

Draco’s breath left him as though he’d been punched and anger roiled quick through his body. Without another word, he got up and left. He stalked straight down to the Slytherin Common Room and ordered a pair of chatting girls to move from the coveted spot before the fireplace. He dropped into a vacated chair wondering why the fire never seemed to put out warmth. Someone took the other chair and he turned a glare on them.

 

“I finished your potions essay,” said a sixth year boy with unnaturally blond hair and hard eyes.

 

“Leave it,” Draco replied, dismissing the younger wizard. Little what’s-his-name wanted to be just like Draco and it disturbed him.

 

He replayed the conversation with Hermione in his mind and decided that he should have approached the situation from a different angle. Draco went to bed, a new plan forming in his mind.

 

**Part II.**

 

Hermione wouldn’t have described him as persistent, but she was mildly surprised to be set upon by Draco a second time.

 

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she said, getting up to put away her things. It was special privileges that Headmistress McGonagall allowed a few students to return and complete their education; Hermione had no interest in a bad report from Madame Pince jeopardizing her opportunity.

 

“Date me or I’ll tell everyone you lost your virginity to Viktor Krum,” Malfoy said lightly.

 

Fury lit within Hermione’s stomach as she glared at Malfoy.

 

“No one cares about the state of my virginity,” she snapped.

 

“You might be surprised,” he drawled with a smug lift of his brow.

 

Hermione felt her temper spike, again, and went still. She stared at the pale-eyed wizard, her lips pressed into a thin line. Deciding he wasn’t worth the trouble, she summoned her belongings with one swish.

 

“Give my regards to Rita Skeeter,” she growled and swept past him.

 

It took some time, but Hermione located Ginny and Luna working on a Charms assignment in an unused classroom. Still angry, she regaled them with Malfoy’s bizarre request and asked their advice.

 

“I don’t want to be hexed, but I think you should have agreed,” Ginny said.

 

Luna nodded, “Me, too.”

 

Hermione blinked at both of them, astounded. Her rage simmered right back up to boiling.

 

“Draco Malfoy is a foul, dark-arts-loving, prejudiced, mean git!”

 

Ginny was nodding. “I know, I know. But don’t you see, Hermione?”

 

“See what?”

 

“He doesn’t want to be,” Luna added, dreamily shrugging. Ginny pointed at Luna with a sage smile.

 

Hermione suddenly went limp. They were right. He may have asked her to pretend to date him, but what he’d really been asking for was her help.

 

Light was just streaking across the sky when Hermione finally feel asleep. She’d been utterly shocked by her friends’ support of Malfoy and even more shocked that she agreed. Disgusted and unable to sleep, Hermione tossed and turned most of the night.

 

The week tarried on and Hermione found she shared only Advanced Potions with Draco Malfoy. As was his habit, he sat in the front; Hermione had the opportunity to watch him without being spotted. From the behavior she noticed, Malfoy did not appear to have changed much. He cheated off his partner and appeared to enjoy the failure of others as much as he ever had.

 

Unimpressed, Hermione chose to forget Malfoy’s bargain and a month passed in studiousness. 

 

**Part III.**

 

“Hello, Luna,” Draco said quietly. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to catch her alone since term had started.

 

“Hello, Draco,” she replied, tucking her wand behind her ear.

 

Draco heard a faint humming sound coming from her bracelet. The witch must have noticed him staring because she held out her wrist.

 

“Billywig eggs,” she explained. “I’m keeping them for Hagrid.”

 

“Oh,” Draco began, fighting his instinct to say something rude about the giant oaf. “That’s – that’s interesting.”

 

“Are you going to ask me about Hermione?”

 

Draco’s brows lifted. “No.” Then, he scowled. “She told you?”

 

“She did. And I think you should try asking her, again. But ask nicely this time, alright?”

 

Draco gazed coolly at the dotty-looking witch. Why was it his recent conversations with witches seemed to go sideways?

 

“Actually, I wanted to apologize to you.” He said, steering the conversation to its point. “For my family,” he added.

 

“For locking me in your dungeon,” Luna supplied.

 

Remorse pulled Draco’s shoulders tight and he nodded.

 

Luna moved close to him and touched his arm. “I understand. It wasn’t your fault. You were only doing what you must to protect your family.”

 

Draco met her eyes, feeling as though a large weight had fallen from his back. He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

 

“Long forgiven,” she said, pulling her wand from behind her ear and absentmindedly twirling it as she strolled away.

 

**Part IV.**

 

The morning was a stormy one. Hermione was enjoying a leisurely breakfast with Ginny and Neville when soggy owls arrived and began dropping post. A flurry of large birds landed in front of Hermione, knocking aside bowls and overturning dishes. Hermione hurried to untie the little gold packages from their legs to minimize the damage; Ginny and Neville helped.

 

“What is all this?” Ginny asked, freeing the last owl from its burden.

 

“Is it your birthday?” Neville asked.

 

“No. Could it be from Harry and Ron? They’re traveling,” Hermione said, but she was sceptical.

 

Ginny snorted. “We’re lucky if they send postcards.”

 

A suspicion blossomed in Hermione’s mind and her gaze shot towards the Slytherin table. She didn’t see him.

 

“Right,” she sighed, pulling the ribbon on one of the boxes.

 

With a small popping sound, a bouquet of red flowers burst from the tiny package. Ginny’s gasp and Neville’s “Wow!” drew the attention of all. Luna and several others meandered over to watch.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“Is it your birthday, Hermione?”

 

“That’s lovely!”

 

“What else is there?”

 

Embarrassed to draw a crowd, Hermione wondered if she shouldn’t open the rest alone. However, it was too late to hide all the packages.

 

Nine more bouquets of red and gold as well as exquisite feather quills, chocolates, and books popped from the boxes amidst ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. There was no card but Hermione was fairly certain she knew the origin of the gifts. It was difficult not to feel flattered, but it wasn’t real. Draco Malfoy wanted to use her. His motive for sending gifts was false and manipulative and she couldn’t stop her rising fury.

 

“Where is he?” she asked in a deadly quiet tone.

 

Ginny and Luna glanced towards the Slytherin table.

 

“Probably on the quidditch pitch,” Ginny offered softly. “Practice has started.”

 

Hermione stood and attempted to make her way out of the crowd of gathered students.

 

“These are thoughtful gifts, Hermione,” Luna announced, admiring one of the quills.

 

“Who are they from?” Neville asked, appreciatively sniffing one of the bouquets. Ginny and Luna looked to Hermione for an answer, but she was already gone.

 

The wind whipped Hermione’s hair across her face and she testily spelled it into a plait as she stomped towards the quidditch pitch. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Hermione’s attention was fixed on the green and silver cloaks streaking through the air. She spotted the villain and yelled.

 

“Draco Malfoy!”

 

Someone had heard her; word passed from player to player until the blond wizard flew to hover near Hermione.

 

“Come to thank me for the gifts?” he asked, slicking his hair back off his face.

 

“What are you doing, Malfoy? I refuse them! _Every single one_!” Hermione yelled.

 

The other players joined Malfoy to listen-in.

 

“I’m tired of hiding it, Hermione,” Malfoy shrugged.

 

“ _What_? Hiding what?” Hermione trilled. She drew her wand, rage making her want to grip it.

 

“You and me,” Malfoy said. “I don’t want it to be a secret anymore.”

 

The Slytherin players exchanged looks of shock while Hermione stared hard at Malfoy. He’d taken her by surprise and not much surprised her. Frankly, she was amused. Hermione had reconciled herself to the idea of helping Malfoy…evolve. She didn’t appreciate his blatant bribery, but her anger evaporated and she was fought a grin. She took a deep breath.

 

“Alright, _Draco_ ,” she said. “No more hiding.”

 

“Drama’s over. Let’s get back to practice!” yelled a booming voice. The other Slytherins flew up to playing level.

 

Hermione was unprepared to Malfoy for speed past her and drop a wet kiss on her cheek. She finally felt the chill of the rain and with a quick glance after him, she hurried back to the castle.

 

Seated, once more, at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by Malfoy’s gifts, Hermione turned to her friends.

 

“Before you hear it somewhere else, I’m dating Draco Malfoy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Part I.**

 

“I want to talk rules,” Granger said, voice anxious and breathy, as Draco closed the door to the empty classroom.

 

Draco stopped midstride and said enthusiastically, “My idea of fun.”

 

The witch’s dark glance didn’t ruffle him in the least, but he wanted her help so he slouched into a chair with a defeated sigh.

 

Granger was quiet for a moment as if preparing herself to give a speech. Draco fought a grin; the witch did nothing halfway.

 

“Let’s have it,” he prompted, enjoying her glare.

 

“No touching, no kissing, and I am _not_ doing your homework-”

 

“What kind of witch doesn’t let her boyfriend touch her?” Draco interrupted.

 

“The _pretend_ kind,” Granger snapped in reply.

 

Draco gave a dramatic sigh. “Whatever.”

 

“Well, how do _you_ expect this to go?” she asked haughtily.

 

“Typical stuff. Eat together, I walk you to class, quick snog in the broom closet, Hogsmeade weekends together, you cheer me on at Quidditch.”

 

Disappointingly, Granger ignored his snogging comment.

 

“You really want to spend that much time with me?” she asked, expression sceptical.

 

Draco cocked his head as if considering and then shrugged. It was exactly what he wanted. “Yes.”

 

Granger stared at him until he lifted his brows.

 

“Alright,” she finally answered. “Let’s eat at Gryffindor table. I don’t much want to be glowered at.”

 

“My housemates wouldn’t do anything to cross me,” Draco said.

 

“Sure about that?” Granger asked gruffly, pulling out what he presumed was her homework.

 

“Oh, yes,” he replied stretching lazily.

 

“Why is that?”

 

Draco tapped his outstretched left forearm, but did not relish that Granger’s face drained of colour as she realised to what he was gesturing. The Dark Lord might be gone, but Slytherins respected that Draco bore his mark. How could she have forgotten?

 

“Thank you for this,” Draco said just before he left the room. Despite his joy in needling the witch, he appreciated her help.

 

**Part II.**

 

When Draco slid onto the bench beside Hermione in the Great Hall, a hush fell over Gryffindor table, but the silence quickly elevated to whispering and catcalls. Hermione chanced a glance at the other house tables; Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw didn’t seem to care, but the Slytherins were openly staring. Only one or two faces wore expressions of anger and the tension in Hermione’s shoulders eased. 

 

Hermione’s attention was pulled to her plate as Draco stole a piece of her toast. He bit into it and winked at her. She fought an irrational smile; she was not accustomed to being the recipient of flirtatious behaviour.

 

“Come watch practice tonight,” Draco said, leaning towards her. Unexpected warmth shot through Hermione at the allusion of intimacy in his gesture.

 

Keenly aware that Ginny, Neville, and Seamus were watching them, Hermione held in her automatic snort of ‘no.’

 

“You know,” Ginny began with a sly grin, “If you watch his Quidditch practice, he’ll owe you a trip to the library…”

 

With a mental note to hug Ginny later, Hermione turned a smug smile on Draco.

 

“All right,” she agreed.

 

Draco polished off Hermione’s toast, announced he had some business to attend before classes, and pressed a lingering kiss to Hermione’s cheek. She felt her face flush. Why did he keep kissing her? She specifically told him no kissing! With a roll of her eyes, Hermione realized she’d answered her own question.

 

Ginny and Neville were staring at her, frozen with shock. Seamus made a retching noise.

 

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he announced, shooting Hermione a nasty glance as he left the table.

 

“I expected a reaction like that from _his_ house,” Hermione sighed. She poked at her food with her fork, appetite gone.

 

“It’s a bit of a surprise,” Neville supplied.

 

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed with a meaningful glance.

 

“Yes, yes. I was surprised, too. It’s new,” Hermione replied. She understood that Ginny was teasing her because Draco was pushing his boundaries, taking advantage of Hermione’s help. “I’ve got to grab my books before classes. See you.”

 

Hermione’s mind was stuck on Draco as she headed for Gryffindor tower. She hadn’t been prepared for him to go against her wishes. He wasn’t causing harm, but he was distracting her. When she should have been focused on classes, she was thinking about _him_.

 

_“You owe us an explanation.”_

 

The voice caught Hermione’s attention because it was hissed from the dark stairwell descending into the dungeon.

 

“I owe you nothing,” she heard Draco reply coldly. She hid herself around the corner from the stairwell to eavesdrop. Was it about _her_?

 

_“She’s Muggle-born!”_

 

“And intelligent and beautiful,” Draco’s icy voice replied.

 

Hermione felt colour flood her cheeks, again. She reminded herself it was for show. Draco Malfoy did not really think she was intelligent and beautiful.

 

“Now, get out of my way.”

 

Hearing Draco’s growl, Hermione scurried away for her house rooms before she was spotted.

 

**Part III.**

 

As she entered the Potion’s classroom, Anthony Goldstein was beside Hermione, eyes full of male interest, listening as she spoke. The sight triggered Draco’s possessive nature. He quietly ordered Goyle to gather his things and led him to Hermione’s table in the back.

 

“Hermione, will you sit with me?”

 

At her curious glance, Draco added under his breath that he needed some help with his potions. Still peering at him with suspicion, Hermione picked up her bag. As he guided Hermione to the chair beside his, Draco slid his hand across her back, slipping it low enough that she shot him a warning glare. Throughout the class, Draco took pains to appear intimate with Hermione. He touched her often and made her laugh. He hoped Goldstein got the message. Hermione Granger was his.

 

“Spill it,” Hermione said as the classroom emptied.

 

“What?” Draco asked, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. He glared Goldstein out the door.

 

“You do not need help with Potions.”

 

Draco glanced at Hermione; she was watching him. He experienced a little thrill to realise that she was a mental match for him. She was paying attention and he hadn’t fooled her.

 

“Do you carry your books for _every_ class?”

 

“I seem to recall you offering to carry them.”

 

“I offered more than that…” Draco leered.

 

Hermione laughed as she hefted her satchel and the sound sent contentment through Draco. He wanted to make her do that, again.

 

“Give them to me,” he said as they left the classroom. As always, Goyle was waiting for Draco just outside. When Hermione handed her bag to Draco, he passed it to Goyle. Hermione shot Draco a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement.

 

“I’ve got an assignment for Advanced Runes. I’ll be in the library tonight,” she said.

 

Draco’s internal response was rolled eyes. He was nothing if not well practiced in masking his emotions and only nodded. Hermione’s cooperation was necessary and she’d already been to two of his practices. “I’ll join you,” he said.

 

“It’s not necessary. Ginny was just teasing,” Hermione said.

 

With a smug grin, Draco threw his arm around the witch’s shoulders. “I want to.”

 

When Hermione’s cheeks pinkened, an unfamiliar sensation filled Draco. It was delicious. What, in Salazar’s name, was it?

 

The Great Hall was warm and inviting at supper. Draco sat close to Hermione and managed to hold a conversation with Longbottom that didn’t utterly suck while shooting smug glares at Goldstein. After the meal, Blaise caught Draco’s eye and beckoned him over to the Slytherin table. Draco told Hermione he would be right back and meaningfully tapped a spot on his jaw.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her blink and then lean in to kiss him. At the last second, he turned his head and pressed his lips to hers. Warmth curled in his gut, but he wanted to be gone before the witch decided he’d crossed the line. Draco slipped away.

 

**Part IV.**

Ginny chuckled while Hermione stared after Draco in annoyance.

 

“Harry’s written to ask what’s going on with you.”

 

Hermione set down her fork. She’d lost her appetite, distracted by Draco’s antics.

 

“What should I say?” Ginny prodded.

 

“As he hasn’t the spine to write me, tell him I’m in love,” Hermione shrugged. Unconsciously, her gaze sought the blond wizard across the hall; he wore a stony expression that made her wonder after his wellbeing. She knew very little of Draco’s school life.

 

“Hermione?”

 

Hermione found that Ginny was watching her with an expectant expression.

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

The redhead’s gaze contemplated Hermione for a moment and she leaned close across the table. “You might be interested to know that about a month ago, Malfoy sought out Luna and apologized for his family imprisoning her.”

 

“Did he, really?” Hermione asked, her heart warming at the news. She glanced at Draco, again. He met her gaze and, inexplicably, Hermione smiled at him. He winked back and Hermione rolled her eyes.

 

“That’s Luna’s story,” Ginny replied. “Not that you’re listening to anything I say…”

 

**Part V.**

 

Draco scowled to see Hermione summon yet another book. How many had she gone through? “The one you want is over your shoulder – by Kittichai Llewellyn. Chapter six.”

 

Hermione lifted a brow at him. “I’ve been searching for thirty minutes and you’ve just remembered the precise chapter and book?”

 

Draco sat up, thoroughly annoyed and snapped, “Just because I know the answer to something doesn’t mean I have to tell the entire world.”

 

When Hermione had the summoned the book and flipped through the pages, he saw that her cheeks were flushed. He’d hurt her feelings. He blamed Blaise for his distraction. And his father. Azkaban would be free of Lucius in two weeks and Zabini had been the bearer of the awful news.

 

“Quit kissing me,” Hermione said, flipping a page with the steady calm of an ashwinder about to strike.

 

“Would you rather we hold hands...?” Draco drawled, aware she was reacting to his thoughtless comment.

 

“Not at all,” Hermione scowled into the book.

 

“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” Draco mused, watching the witch. He hadn’t meant to voice his thought, but he didn’t like feeling responsible for her moods. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

 

“If I’m that repellent to you,” he offered quietly.

 

“No, no. That’s not it,” she quickly replied, giving him her full attention.

 

“The opposite?” Draco asked with a smug grin.

 

Hermione frowned, but blushed. “You know you’re attractive, Draco. I’m just not accustomed to being kissed.”

 

Draco shrugged. “I’ll stop.”

 

Hermione met his gaze and gave a sigh. “Oh, never mind.”

 

Almost an hour later, they left the library together. When that Ravenclaw git, Goldstein, said ‘hi’ to Hermione as they passed him, a surge of jealousy gripped Draco and he pushed Hermione against the wall for a proper snog. She gasped, but didn’t stop him from guiding her lips apart and investigating the lovely shape of her hips. When his hands reached the small of her back and his mouth had migrated to nipping her neck, she gave a moan that rocked him. He wanted her, Hermione Granger. Draco pulled her close, pressing her against him and he heard her breath catch, sending delicious sensations through him.

 

“Ahem!”

 

Hermione slipped out of Draco’s arms as if she were a ghost and he turned to find Slughorn frowning at him. He gave the professor a jaunty wink and stepped around him. Hermione had already disappeared. Unless Draco was greatly mistaken, he’d just snogged Hermione Granger and she’d loved every second.

 

**Part VI.**

 

As soon as she spotted Draco emerging from the dungeon, Hermione beckoned him outside of the crowd of students entering the Great Hall.

 

“I’m quite confused,” Hermione nervously admitted once the corridor was empty.

 

“About?”

 

“It felt real,” she hissed, arms crossed tight across her chest. Hermione had not slept for the lovely humming in her limbs warring with her brain: it wasn’t real.

 

“It was real,” Draco replied with maddening calm.

 

“I mean, it felt… It felt like I was kissing my boyfriend,” she struggled to explain. She felt like a cat rubbed backwards.

 

“You were.”

 

Hermione stared at Draco for a moment and realized that she wouldn’t get anywhere with him. Especially while he was enjoying her discomfort. She took a calming breath.

 

“Perhaps I need clarification. How long do you expect this to go on? To what end?”

 

Draco examined his fingernails with mild interest. “I don’t know. I just want my life to be different.”

 

“You don’t need me to make your life different,” Hermione replied.

 

“I disagree,” Draco said softly.

 

Hermione’s brain simply couldn’t wrap around the situation she’d put herself in. Why was Draco Malfoy convinced that she was the key to his change? He met her gaze and she wondered if she really wanted to know what he was thinking.

 

Draco stepped close to her. “Are you breaking up with me?” he asked slyly.

 

Despite herself, Hermione grinned. “No. Damn your charm.” And damn her susceptibility to it.

 

For another week, they carried on their ruse. They ate with Hermione’s friends and Draco walked her to class, handing her books off to one of his minions. “They” became normal. But the kissing stopped and there was no repeat of their steamy moment in the corridor.

 

When the first Hogsmeade weekend was announced at dinner one night, Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach at Draco’s meaningful wink. The voice in her mind that usually reminded her that their relationship was a farce had grown quiet. Hermione was enjoying the time she spent with Draco and she decided to relish it rather than overthink it.

 

“Quidditch practice tonight?”

 

Draco nodded and sipped his water. “Coming to watch?”

 

“Maybe,” Hermione teased.

 

“I’ll understand if you can’t make it. You’ve got that paper for Slughorn.”

 

“You’ve got the same paper,” Hermione reminded him.

 

Draco just smirked at her. He wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t have to. He played quidditch and was worshipped by his house. Hermione, helplessly smitten, watched him saunter from the Great Hall with the rest of the Slytherin team.

 

“Oh, Hermione, you’re doomed,” Ginny whispered.

 

Hermione playfully chucked her napkin at the redhead.

 

It was dark and Hermione had given up on her homework. It was a challenge even in daylight to do it in the quidditch stands. Practice had ended. She gathered her books and leisurely made her way down to the pitch and towards the locker room that spilled light and raucous laughter.

 

The players began exiting; one or two nodded politely to Hermione.

“He's moving slow, but he's coming,” said Goyle.

 

“Thanks,” was all Hermione could say. She didn't remember Goyle ever speaking to her before.

 

After a few quiet moments, Draco emerged.

 

“You didn't need to wait,” he said, pulling Hermione close as they strolled towards the castle.

 

“I'll remember that next time,” she quipped, body zipping with happiness that Draco was holding her.

 

Draco stopped walking and Hermione followed suit, concerned. “What is it?”

 

“I think you were right. I don't _need_ you to make my life different.”

 

Hermione’s heart slipped into her stomach and her arms went weightless. “Oh.”

 

“I want a different life with you in it.”

 

Before Hermione could recover from her shock, Draco had pulled her back into his arms and was kissing her. She dropped everything and kissed him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely GaeilgeRua for beta reading!
> 
> Prompt: Year 8. Draco wants to change his image and show that he is not the same as he once was pre-war. He decides the best way to do this is by dating Gryffindor's Princess. He just has to convince her to go along with the plan.


End file.
